


Dark Lord of the Dads

by the_little_bay_that_could



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Darth Dad and Kids, Father-Son Relationship, Force Bond (Star Wars), Sith, Sith Shenanigans, Teenage Rebellion, Weird Sith Family, sw crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_little_bay_that_could/pseuds/the_little_bay_that_could
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unconnected short stories in which Vader raises Luke and/or Leia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teenage Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke's version of teenage rebellion is committing treason and joining the Rebel Alliance, and a certain Sith Lord dad is less than pleased.

He looked it up on the HoloNet. Furiously typed something in about teenage children not listening to their parents. _Psychology Now_  said it was natural for children in their teenage, and even young adult, years to want to distance themselves from their parents. They called it Teenage Rebellion. This rebellious behavior tended to manifest itself in a variety of common forms. Sometimes teenagers would dress in ways they knew their parents would disapprove, and other times they would ignore their parents’ direct orders and run off to whatever little party or concert they were strictly prohibited from attending. The site described instances of excessive drug use, drinking, and sex, but _no where_ did it mention _anything_ about treason.

 

_“Teenagers may reject their parents’ teachings and moral values as a means of not only distancing themselves from their parents, but as a means of developing their own sense-of-self.”_

 

Alright, that was the closet explanation for Luke’s behavior Vader was able to find, but it still did not precisely explain the boy’s actions. Because treason was taking this whole _teenage rebellion_ nonsense a bit too far, right?

 

Luke’s behavior had become erratic in the past few years. As the child grew in mind and body, he became less and less inclined to listen to his father. When the boy was 16, he skipped off to some slummy cantina against his father’s orders. He had to practice his dueling skills, but apparently found his time to be better spent listening to some band called _Stripped Lekku,_ in a musty, spice-filled den _._ He insisted that the band was _the best in the entire galaxy_ , but Vader never heard of them, and he personally found their name to be rather idiotic. 

 

Vader had been somewhat offended, too. Evidently, Luke considered his childish interests to be paramount to his Sith training. Did he _not even want_ to destroy the Emperor, and rule the galaxy as Father and Son? 

 

Despite the anger, frustration, and offense Vader felt at the time, he did not dwell on the action too much. He never even contemplated that this relatively inconsequential behavior would lead to treasonous behavior! Vader presumed it was the increased rigor and stress of the Sith training that got to Luke. As overthrowing the Emperor came closer and closer to fruition, Luke kept straying farther and farther away. _Why_ this was eluded Vader. He knew Luke despised the Emperor as much as he did, and it was the boy’s _destiny_ to destroy the old man. And once he did, the galaxy would be in their hands! Father and Son, they would rule! How could the child reject _such_ an offer! 

 

With the help of some smuggler, and Obi-Wan Kenobi (of all people!), Luke helped Princess Leia escape the Death Star. Upon discovering the boy’s insolence, Vader was livid, and promptly Force-choked 3 Stormtroopers to death. And when father questioned son about it through their ever-present Force-bond, Luke rambled on about how _fascism is bad_ and that it was _wrong to blow up entire planets._ Well, if the boy’s qualms were with the Death Star, he should have known that his father agreed with him! The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force! Vader explained just this to his wayward son, but the foolish boy only complained _you_   _just don’t understand!_

 

Vader was beyond himself, truly. He had to kill two more Stormtroopers just to find some semblance of peace. The willful, foolhardy child was rejecting the ways of the Sith, his father, and the opportunity to rule the galaxy! _Force! where had he gone wrong as a father_? He had been attentive as possible (well, as attentive as the job of a Sith Lord would allow. His schedule was really quite hectic). He had given the boy everything he could have asked for, and then some. He offered him the chance to rule the galaxy, yet the child had the audacity to reject him! Incomprehensible! All because of some perverse teenage rebellion, because of some petty morals. 

 

Relentlessly, Vader scoured every system in the galaxy for Luke. Yet, inconceivably, the child had hidden his presence from him! In the Force, he became nearly impossible to find.

 

Previously, Luke blabbered and whined about the fact that he was now 19, and thus old enough to make decisions for himself, but Vader decided otherwise. In another time, he held more confidence in his son, but seemingly the boy was incapable of making a judicious decision for himself!

 

And then— _"so Force help me,"_ Vader cried—the boy elected himself a member of the Rebellion! Blasphemous! Luke holocommed Vader, informing him of his decision.

 

_Father, I can’t do this anymore. What you’re doing here, what the Empire is doing… it is wrong. I can no longer stand idly by and just watch. I have to do something._

 

What naiveté! The dark side was the only way, surely his beloved nitwit of son had to know that. But no, apparently not! The child went off to chase the Light!

 

Vader Force-choked his son, right there, over the holocom. He reached out to him in the Force, felt his presence, then choked him. Vader imagined _that_ to be convincing enough of an argument, but Luke apparently didn’t think so, nonsensically asserting that Vader’s actions only _proved his point._ What in the Force was that supposed to mean!

 

Ridiculous. Surely this had to be some sort of deception by the Rebellion. Maybe they had brainwashed the boy. His son would never be so inane and rash to betray his own father and the Sith. 

 

Then, _oh then,_ his son blew up the Death Star. Vader felt Luke’s presence in the Force, strong and thrumming, as he tailed the boy’s X-wing. He briefly considered taking the shot, blowing his darling son to smithereens, but even if the shot had been there in the first place, he knew he couldn’t have done it. Against Sith dogma and all, he still loved Luke. _Even though_ the boy thought it wise to join the Rebellion and become a Jedi. 

 

Vader's Master was mad. Enraged. His eyes an exceptional incandescent yellow. His little pet-project, a planet-destroying weapon, had been blown up by none less than Vader’s child. And of course, with the boy no where to be found, it was Vader’s ass that paid in the traditional torturous Sith-fashion. 

 

Vader eventually _aggressively_ addressed the boy at the Jedi temple on Vrogas Vas. He implored him to come home, his mechanic, melodic voice almost nuanced with the tone of a sad Sith-dad missing the presence of his rebellious son.

 

“Come home, Luke. We can make this work. We can overthrow the Emperor!”

 

Luke let out a petulant “Father!” in response. “I have joined the Rebellion now. I’m not coming back.”

 

Decisively concluding that the child’s hissy-fit had gone too far for too long (treason! Of all things!), Vader took a more _coercive_ approach. He called in a legion of Stormtroopers to subdue Luke. Some may call it excessive, maybe even imprudent, as surely, the implications this could have on maintaining a healthy father-son relationship may be less than favorable. _Really though,_ that was all immaterial. Vader had to have his son back in his possession. This rebel nonsense wouldn’t do. 

 

The plan succeeded. Vader retrieved Luke without any serious complications (thank the Force the boy wasn’t so dumb to try and fight). Alas, he almost immediately regretted it. Because _boy,_ did Luke complain. Had he always been so absurdly pettish? All the way the back to the _Executor,_ and then some once they arrived, the child whined. It was nothing Vader had not heard already, but it gave him a splitting headache. Luke was strong in the Force, _yes,_ but he was even stronger in the power of annoyance. Had Vader truly raised this child? He couldn’t have! 

 

Vader fleetingly contemplated letting his son run off to his rebel friends. He couldn’t endure another minute of the child righteously ranting on and _on_ about the ills of fascism, the Empire’s discriminatory policies, and the _inherently problematic nature_ of the Sith Code. But upon determining that Luke would eventually outgrow these childish sentiments (because surely, it was just a phase), Vader resolved to keep his son by his side. The child was tiring and peevish, but he was _still_ his child, and no good Sith-dad could let his child prance off so easily. 


	2. Bedtime Stories with the Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine tells a young Luke about The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise

For the time being, Luke was left alone with Emperor Palpatine in the Imperial Throne Room. His dad had a meeting with old-yellow-eyes before being sent off to deal with some minor insurgency led by “wretched rebel scum.” The Emperor insisted that Luke stay with him while his father grumbled off to settle (kill?) the issue, and so that was how Luke was left in this undesirable predicament. He guessed the Emperor was supposed to be a sort-of mentor (was he his grandpa?) figure to him, but truth be told, he didn’t really like the guy. His dad didn’t either, and he actually talked a lot of crap about him behind his back, but that was a secret. The Emperor wasn’t supposed to know that. The three of them, Luke, his dad, and the Emperor, they were _supposed_ to be some kind-of weird-Sith-family.

“Come, boy,” the Emperor’s gravely voice finally broke Luke’s erratic stream of thought. He sat in his large, black throne that he never seemed to move from (was he stuck there? did he _live_ in that chair?) and patted a gnarled hand against his thigh. Despite his reluctance to even be in the presence of the Emperor, the five year-old hastily obeyed, practically bouncing up on the Emperor’s lap. Bright blue eyes stared patiently into creepy yellow ones, and Luke remembered how funny the Emperor looked.He was shriveled up and ugly, similar to how Luke's fingers look when he's in the bath for too long. Maybe the Emperor just took too many baths, he figured. He is really rich, and rich people _do_ like baths. Then again, his dad looked kind of weird too, and he didn’t think his dad’s suit and a bath would go well together. But at least he had a cool mask for a face, instead of a bath-fingers face. He _also_ knew that the Emperor could read minds, like how his dad could, so maybe it wasn't the best idea to be thinking this around him. Probably not. He was always angry. About what, Luke didn't know, but he did have enough sense to know that he would not like being compared to bath-fingers. He'd probably find that insulting. Yeah, that'd make him really angry. 

Thank the stars the Emperor seemed to ignore his thoughts, though. Luke didn’t want to deal with his wrath for being compared to the likes of shriveled-up fingers. _Instead,_ he spoke again, in what was probably the most benevolent voice he could muster (and that wasn’t saying much, considering everything the Emperor said seemed to be a threat of some sort). “It’s getting late my boy, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

To that, Luke shrugged. “Dad brought me here, and I’m not even tired,” he said defiantly, trying to sound as convincing as possible. It was only 10 o’ clock at night, and _Force,_ he wasn’t four years-old anymore, he could stay up late if he wanted to. 

Much to Luke’s dismay, the Emperor didn’t seem to acknowledge this, didn’t seem to recognize Luke’s recent leap into manhood. “I will tell you a story, my dear boy, and then you run off to bed.”

Luke conceded to this deal. The Emperor wasn’t the kind-of guy you argued with, and Luke always loved stories.

“Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis "the wise”?” his voice dropped an octave.

“No,” Luke shook his head fervently, suddenly intrigued. This guy, this _Darth Plagueis_ character, he had the same type of name as Luke’s father and the Emperor (though, Luke knew, the name _Darth Sidious_ was something of a secret), so maybe he was also part of their weird-Sith-family. A grandparent, or something like that.

“It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians…”

“The midi- _what?”_

_“_ The midi- _chlorians._ Anyways, he could use the Force to influence them to create life.”

“But what are midi-chlorians?” Luke chirped.

The Emperor let out a sound Luke could only decipher as a groan. “They are a microscopic life form that resides within all living cells,” he described hurriedly. “As I was saying…”

“So _I_ have these midi-chlorian things?”

“Yes, boy, _yes,”_ irritation piqued in his voice.

“That’s kinda a funny name. Midi-chlorians,” he giggled.

“Yes, sure, _whatever,”_ he sounded more vexed by the second.

“But what do the midi-chlorians do?” Luke inquired, cutting the Emperor off before he had time to continue his story.

“ _Quiet,_ you insolent little pest,” he snarled, and Luke was taken aback, thoroughly offended. He didn’t know what _insolent_ meant, but it sounded mean enough. And he was sure he saw blue electricity spark on the Emperor’s fingertips, so he took that as a sign to shut-up (for the time being). “As I was _saying,”_ he repeated with more authority this time, his teeth grinding in anger (maybe _that's_ why the Emperor has such bad teeth. He's grinding them all the time). “He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.” 

Luke’s mouth formed a wide O. “He could actually save people? From _death_?” his voice filled with excitement and wonder. _That_ was almost as cool as the fairytale about the friendly dragon who could breath fire. 

“The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural,” he said in decidedly sinister holomovie-villain voice. Luke saw a movie where some evil old guy (like _evil_ evil, straight from the farthest depths of Sith hell type of evil) wanted to rule the _entire_ universe (which was just crazy in itself), and he killed pretty much all the good guys to accomplish his goal. The Emperor kind-of reminded him of the villain.

“Well what happened to him!” Luke finally exclaimed once he was sure the Emperor had finished talking. 

The Emperor smiled. “He became so powerful . . . the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep.”

At that, Luke gasped. “That’s not very nice!” Maybe this story _wasn’t_ as cool as he initially thought.

“Plagueis never saw it coming,” he continued, ignoring the horror radiating from the boy.He was still smiling for some reason. Why, Luke did not know. It didn’t seem like a happy story. “It’s ironic he could save others from death, but not himself.”

Luke’s eyes bled with a mixture of awe and terror. “Who was his apprentice?” he asked immediately. Darth Plagueis’ apprentice shouldn’t have killed him. That was wrong.

“That is irrelevant,” he spat. 

“But who killed him?” he persisted, his voice growing exponentially more whiny. 

“I killed him.” 

Now _that_ caught Luke by surprise. He gasped again, his face contorting into an expression of shock and fright. “ _You_ killed him? But that’s mean!” he was mortally affronted, truly beyond himself. “Why would you do such a thing!”

“It is the way of the Sith,” the Emperor growled.

“Well the Sith aren’t very nice,” he declared. The Emperor just glared at the boy. “That’s not a fun story,” Luke huffed finally, jumping off the Emperor’s lap with sudden urgency. 


	3. Principal's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia gets in trouble for using the Force to attack a bully at school, and Vader is subsequently called in for a conference.  
> Or  
> Elementary School: The Weird-Sith-Family Strikes Back

“Why don’t you go play with your dolls, Princess. This game is for boys _only.”_

_Why,_ that useless literal piece of banthashit. 

“Excuse me?” Leia seethed, her head snapping around to look at the perpetrator. The game of grav-ball ceased abruptly around her.

“I think you heard me, Princess,” that pudgy-faced, loud-mouthed asshole stuck a fat tongue out at her, “boys only.”

A proud feminist, and a woman at all of 9-years of age, Leia was _not_ about to take that. “You have some nerve, Bren,” Leia furiously strode towards the blond boy who was three years her senior and stood about a foot above her. She pointed an angry, accusatory finger at the son of some inconsequential Imperial officer. “Just _who_ do you think you are?”

“Ooh look, the Princess is mad,” Bren taunted. “What are you gonna do, hit me?”

She would have certainly liked to, but his face was too far away to land an effective blow. “No,” she smiled viciously, wrapping an invisible hand around Bren’s neck and levitating him in the air. Just like how her dad taught her.

Everyone on the playground of Imperial City Primary School stopped to stare as Bren gasped for air and futilely struggled against the suffocating hold around his neck.

Leia thought it a satisfactory time for a lecture on respect. She cleared her throat, “Listen to me, you no-good nerf-herder,” aside from the sound of her voice and Bren’s pathetic wheezing for air, the playground was stark silent. “I don’t know where you get your delusions from, pea-brain, but you have no business talking to me like that. From now on, you will treat me with the respect I deserve! Next time, I will not be so forgiving,” she proclaimed, her small voice stern. That last line was something she heard her dad say sometimes, whenever he was choking the life out of Imperial officers (stormtroopers didn’t get second chances).

Satisfied that Bren learned his lesson and that she instilled a sufficient amount of fear into him, Leia _was_ about to calmly let the boy go, but…

“Leia, what in the stars are you doing! Put him down right now!”

… _that_ ruined her moment. The appalled voice of a well-meaning, but severely annoying, young teacher, Ms. Rennler.

Now thoroughly vexed, Leia flung Bren across the field, straight into the grav-ball net. “There!” she scowled, her arms irately crossed against her chest.

“What did you just _do?!”_ the teacher exclaimed.

“I put him down, like you asked.”

“Principle’s office! Now!” Ms. Rennler flustered, grabbing Leia by the bicep and dragging her away.

 

 

Relaxed in a chair that sat before the principal’s desk, Leia yawned, helplessly bored. The school principal, Mr. Xanter, was dwelling on why violence is bad, and on how she needs to control her temper better.

“Leia, you can’t hurt anyone who makes you mad.”

“But Bren started it! He was being a jerk. He had it coming.”

“It doesn’t matter who started it! Your behavior is unacceptable. And this is not the first fight you’ve been in. Just because you’re angry at someone, that doesn’t give you the right to cause them harm!”

“That’s not what my dad says!” she argued, boredom warping into the familiar feeling of exasperation. “He always says: let your hatred flow through you, destroy those who try and oppose you. Grandpa Palpatine too! He tells me to give into my aggressive feelings,” Leia paused, looking pointedly at the principal, “Mercy is for the weak, Mr. Xanter, and forgiveness is _not_ the way of the Sith.” 

Mr. Xanter stilled, staring at Leia with wide-eyes and a gaping mouth.

“Besides, I don’t think you wanna go against my dad and the Emperor,” she continued, sensing the man’s shock and unease. 

“Ah, um, no. Of course not! I-I just simply… um, I will be contacting your father. I wish to speak to him, is all.”

Leia shrugged, uncaring. She knew, if anything, her dad would be proud of her.

Nervous, Mr. Xanter thumbed in a series of numbers into his commlink, dialing Vader.

“L-Lord Vader!” he stammered as the call was received. He was answered by the resonance of Vader’s respirator. “I, um, I am calling concerning your daughter… Leia. You see, well, uh, she’s been in another fight,” beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, “and s-she injured a boy! Lord Vader, she _choked_ the boy! And _levitated_ him! And then _flung_ him across the field!”

Unable to see any issue in the matter, Vader didn’t respond.

“Certainly, m’Lord, I do not mean to interfere with your, erm, teachings,” he choked on his words, “It’s just… You must understand, here at Imperial City Primary School, we have a strict no violence policy! We want all children to feel safe here, s-surely you understand that.”

Vader didn’t respond to _that_ last bit either. He didn’t have the best track record with younglings. 

“I, um, I realize you’re a very busy man, m’Lord. I was… just, uh, hoping, that you could find time to stop by the school, so we can discuss the matters of your daughter’s behavior.”

“Very well,” Vader replied simply, utterly annoyed. “I will be there shortly.”

 

 

Bren and his father, a pallid and awkward Imperial officer by the name of Melnik Yangler, arrived to the principal’s office shortly before Vader. Apparently, this was a group meeting, in which they were supposed to talk the issues through and settle it diplomatically. Ugh.

The roomed tensed and froze as Vader entered, and Leia could only decipher the collective emotions and thoughts of Bren, Mr. Yangler, and Mr. Xanter to be that of a strong sense of foreboding and a general feeling of impending doom. That tended to be the normal reaction to her dad’s presence, but Leia couldn’t understand why. He played Tea Party with her and her dolls, so he couldn’t be _that_ scary.

“Please, Lord Vader, sit,” Mr. Xanter said in the calmest voice he could manage. It wasn’t a calm one.

Much to Leia’s amusement, Vader struggled to fit his bulking body into the relatively slim wood chair, but he eventually managed.

Prickly and pompous Mr. Yangler was the first to speak. “Lord Vader,” he began with surprising confidence, “your daughter brutally assaulted and thoroughly traumatized my boy! This is intolerable and I want something done about it!”

Leia scoffed, and behind his mask, Vader rolled his eyes. 

_Get a grip on this one, huh?_ Vader joked with his daughter through their Force bond, and Leia had to restrain herself from giggling.

_He looks like a womp rat,_ Leia mused and Vader couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Through his vocoder, it came out sounding more like a cough than anything.

The principal spoke, “Is everything alright, Lord Vader?”

“Just fine,” he replied, and Mr. Yangler let out an indignant huff, perturbed by Vader’s lack of a response to his accusations against Leia.

Leia rolled her eyes this time, “Bren started it!” she pouted, “he said all this bad stuff to me. Like that I couldn’t play grav-ball with all the boys because I’m a girl!”

Anger boiled in Vader, his protective streak running strong, “your petulant son dare talk to my daughter in such a manner, and then you have the audacity to make such allegations?” he thundered, and Mr. Yangler visibly shrank back in his seat, put in his place, too petrified to speak. Bren looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

“My daughter responded to the situation accordingly,” he declared, and no one in the room dare question him. Vader pointed his index finger at Mr. Yangler, “For the sake of you and your son, I do hope your piggish child never even thinks to lay an eye on my daughter again.” _Because I will know, and I will come for you,_ was the unspoken, but very clear threat.

On cue, Bren stiffly averted his eyes to the ground.

“Do you understand, _Yangler?”_ Vader snarled as he clenched the man in a Force-choke. 

“Y-yes,” Mr. Yangler replied meekly as he clawed against Vader’s phantom grip.

“I choked Bren just like that!” Leia chimed in, her face gleaming.

Vader released his grasp on Mr. Yangler, “Did you now?” he inquired, turning his head to face his daughter. His chest swelled with pride.

“Yeah dad! You should’ve seen it!” she exclaimed, suddenly forgetting that anyone aside from her and her father was in the room. “Except I levitated him too! And I threw him across like the entire field!” she passionately detailed her accomplishments.

“I wish I could have seen it, my little angel,” he told her earnestly, and the rest of the room fell completely into a fearful and stupefied silence. “Perhaps you could demonstrate it to me later on a stormtrooper.”

Leia nodded her head enthusiastically, her smile growing larger. Adoringly, Vader soaked in the great effervescent ball of fire that was his daughter’s presence in the Force. “Could I show Grandpa Palpatine too?” she asked hopefully. Palpatine had something of a soft spot for her, she knew. Pridefully, Leia remembered how he thought it was “just adorable” when she Force-choked two Rebel prisoners at once.

“Of course,” Vader spoke affectionately, “I’m sure he would love it.” 

And not a peep once again rose from the room’s three other inhabitants. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine is a like a grandpa because I find that amusing to no end. Grandpa Palps finds it simply endearing when lil Leia uses the Force to hurt people.  
> PSA: As fun as they may seem, Sith lessons are Bad and Wrong and are not conducive to establishing a friendly and peaceful environment. Keep out of reach from children. Don't be like Darth Dad and Evil Grandpa. Don't teach your kids that it is hunky dory to kill people.


	4. The Sex Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader has The Talk with Leia. It goes as horribly as one might expect.

Dad rarely stayed in Coruscant anymore. Always off on some mission, serving the Emperor’s latest whim, he seemed to have no time for his children. He never saw them for more than a week at a time, yet still believed he had the authority to micromanage every aspect of Luke and Leia’s life. Dad’s behavior left Luke hurt and Leia pissed. Just sixteen years old, the twins still needed their father, but he was never fucking there.

Leia knew Vader still loved them, that he wanted to be with them, but that knowledge did not quell her rage. Every action her dad made, every word he uttered, reignited her fury. Just last week, they were talking over a holocomm when Vader chastised her for failing a math test. Leia screamed _fuck you! you’re not even here!_ then smashed the comm with the Force.

Her actions, her words, and her petty rebellions hurt Vader. And worried him. But he always struggled with communication and consolations. He hadn’t the slightest clue on how to make his teenage daughter feel better. On the contrary, everything he did made everything worse. During a recent month long mission, his fatherly love and defensiveness prompted him to assign a team of Stormtroopers to follow Leia around and keep her safe. For reasons beyond his comprehension, Leia hated this. On multiple occasions, she assaulted the Stormtroopers with flying chairs, holobooks, and kitchen utensils. Apparently more scared of Leia than Vader, the Stormtroopers quit. They could not bear Leia’s teenage ferocity. Of course, after the Stormtroopers’ failure (and subsequent deaths), Vader assigned a spy to follow Leia around. It felt like the natural, fatherly thing to do.

It took Leia a few days to discover the spy. The spy trailed her on her way to school, parties, and local cantinas. At one such cantina Leia noticed the spy’s stare, and as she remembered seeing his countenance a handful times in the past few days, her anger flared. In front of dozens of cantina patrons, she interrogated the man. _You’re working for my dad, aren’t you asshole?!_ she screamed and proceeded to chuck glasses at the man’s face.

The night of the incident, Leia commed Vader and launched into a two hour long tirade, saying something about how he’s _too possessive_ and is _invading her privacy_. Promptly refuting these accusations, Vader claimed he just wanted to keep his daughter safe.

With the kind of reckless determination only an irate teenager can manage, Leia continued to rebel. She partied and drank, skipped school and had sex. It was not just fantasies of rebellion and contempt for her father that prompted her behavior, but she felt lonely and depressed, in need of a release.

Months of erratic behavior and excessive partying carried on before Leia found genuinely good company in the form of a human boy named Dexter. They met in a cantina on the bad side of town and hit it off over a shared passion for music.

Three weeks after they met, they started dating. Just a year older than her, Dexter understood the pains of an overbearing father. He didn’t know who her father was, and Leia wasn’t keen on letting him know. Upon discovering the identity of her father, past boyfriends tended to run away. And when Dexter first entered Leia’s black, threatening Coruscant mansion, he began questioning who and what her father really was. Leia shrugged off Dexter’s concern, claiming her dad was just another wealthy Imperial with a penchant for dark colors and imposing interior design.

Dexter accepted her explanations easily enough, but whenever they drank or had sex in her room, he worried that her father may suddenly and unexpectedly enter. Leia told her boyfriend not to upset himself with such thoughts—her dad is never around, and his arrivals aren’t exactly discrete.

Dad tried to call home a few times a week. Leia would go on the occasional tirade and regurgitate bland information about school and sports. She never told him about Dexter. He’d freak if he knew she had a boyfriend. So whenever he’d return home for a few days at a time, Leia banned Dexter from visiting.

She kept this up for a few months. Dad never had a clue about her partying habits or her boyfriend. But she started to get cocky, to get _sloppy_. She’d wake up with bone-rattling, brain-breaking hangovers that did not go unnoticed by Vader. She skipped school too often and stayed out well past curfew.

The charade began falling apart, crumbling before Leia could hastily put it back together. After a two week long mission in the Outer Rim, Vader returned home to find a box of condoms on Leia’s bedside table.

Panic flooding his mind, Vader clenched the condom box in a death grip and bellowed at Leia.

“What is _it_!” she cried out in protest, marching towards her room, her hands balled in fists. As she stepped through the door, an admixture of anger and dread overwhelmed her. Her marching suddenly ceased and her jaw dropped in frozen horror.

“What is _this_?” Vader shot back, crushing the box.

“Why are you snooping through my stuff?” she screamed.

“Why are you having sex? Why did you not tell me?”

“It’s none of your business!”

“I don’t want you having sex.”

“Dad, I’m sixteen, it’s my choice!”

“You don’t understand the dangers, child.” Vader felt a cold terror take hold of him as images of Padme yanked him back in time. Her face, her beautiful pregnant body taunted him, tortured him. _Something wonderful has happened_ , she said, the bittersweet words assaulting his mind. The imagine of her smiling, glowing face contorted into a mask of pain and betrayal. She is crying. She is dying. “You don’t understand,” he repeats, more distant this time.

“I understand perfectly well,” Leia insists, her arms crossed against her chest in defiance.

Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, his harsh, black mask, somehow the picture of love and concern, peered into her young face. “Please, my child, just listen,” Vader pleaded. He took a long, dramatic pause. “Don’t have sex, Leia. Because you will get pregnant and die. Don’t have sex in missionary position. Don’t have sex standing up. Just, don’t have sex.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” Leia huffed, her voice quieter now.

“Leia, your mother…”

“Just. Stop. Talking.”

Vader’s anger piqued. “Who is this boy? I will rip his throat—”

“Oh my god dad, _stop_.”

“What’s his name?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Yes dad, we’re dating,” she hesitantly admitted.

“For how long? Months?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her nose still scrunched up in anger.

“I want to meet him.”

“Dad—”

“So long as he treats you well, I will leave his throat in tact.”

“Promise? Don’t scare him.”

That night, Leia commed Dexter, telling him her dad wanted to meet him.

A week later, he showed up at her door in his nicest suit, his body vibrating with nerves. Leia engulfed him in a hug, a nervous smile plastered on both of their faces. As they enveloped one another in a hug, Vader appeared behind Leia, his metallic breathing breaking the silence.

“Oh, what the fuck!” Dexter yelped, pushing away from Leia with sudden urgency.

In an attempt to be cordial, Vader extended his hand towards Dexter. “Call me Vader,” he said, “I’m Leia’s father.”

Interpreting the handshake as a threat, as a sign of his imminent demise, Dexter leaped and then stumbled back. His eyes widened and garbled noises of terror escaped his throat.

“What’s your malfunction, child?”

The boy took another desperate step back, but it was too large and he lost his footing and tumbled down the twenty-five steps that led up to Vader’s mansion. Dexter’s head slammed hard against the concrete. Leia heard a crack. She ran down the stairs to find her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) bloody and unconscious. Desperation washing over her, she beckoned her dad to call an ambulance.

When Leia visited the hospital two days later, she learned he sustained a concussion and a broken ankle. Tears streaming from her eyes, she leaned over the hospital bed and apologized profusely, insisting that her dad really didn’t intend to hurt him, that he just wanted to say hi and be friendly. Dexter seemed too scared to say anything, but when Leia asked if he still wanted to be her boyfriend, he said “are you fucking kidding me?”


End file.
